


Force of Habit

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Undertale (Video Game), underswap
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Angst and Feels, Anxiety, Bittersweet, Control Issues, Desperation, Food Issues, Hiding, Obsessive Behavior, Paranoia, Past Homelessness, Protectiveness, Sans (Undertale) Needs a Hug, Starvation, Stress Relief, Trust Issues, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28912176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: No matter how much generosity Muffet offers, Blue can't bring himself to believe that he and Papyrus are safe. Not yet. Muffet may be kind, but Blue's job is to make sure they don't have to go hungry again.
Relationships: Papyrus & Sans (Undertale)
Kudos: 70





	Force of Habit

It was force of habit by now. Blue had expected the anxiety of self-preservation to dissipate now that Miss Muffet had offered them the chance to stay with her. Most of it had. Brand new clothes and a chance at schooling with other, ordinary children had done wonders for him and Papyrus. He couldn’t be more grateful for her kindness and her generosity; that was what made the guilt so bitter in his throat as he jimmied open the display case in the front room.

The guilt wasn’t enough to stop him, however. It was habit. It was necessary. It was his job. Two honey cinnamon bars were pried carefully and quietly from the trays, along with a croissant: breakfast, lunch and dinner, as needed. Papyrus adored these honey cinnamon bars; the sweet tooth he’d developed since Muffet took them in was corrupting. He would make himself sick on them if he had the chance, forgetting all of the rules Blue had set in place while they were scavenging.

“ _Break off just one corner_ ,” he instructed as he took his brother’s hands to guide them through their hunger-tremors, “ _and mash it into smaller bits. There, now. Take just one pinch at a time. It will last longer like that. Now we can appreciate every bite!_ ”

How long did they spend afterward scraping their phalanges raw along the stone floor, chasing the crumbs that had slipped past them? How long did they drink from the flowers’ dew and the stalagmites’ condensation when the streams in Waterfall were unclean?

With a stealthy patter of bare feet he escaped to the corner booth, prying open the old wood paneling underneath to reveal his bounty. Some of it had aged a few weeks and there were cobwebs to be picked out, but they’d managed with worse. Stale food was simply food that needed more chewing.

Stuffing his new goods in among the rest, he hunkered down on his knees and counted. He hadn’t afforded himself any sloppiness or hastiness in sneaking these things out; it had been a mission staggered out across several days.

He counted again.

And he counted again.

Who did Blue expect to steal these rations? No one knew of this little nook—or if they had, they had given no indication of it. There were no accusations, no pointing fingers.

 _Look one more time_.

He had heard Miss Muffet poring over the discrepancies in her receipts, wondering where those extra sweets had gone, but her suspicions lay with those mischievous bunny children who often tried to wheedle more out of her. Even she didn’t know the truth, she who lived here!

An irrational, desperate itch in the back of his skull urged him to count just once more and with every mouthed number mounted a beautiful, bright flare of relief, peeling some of the burden off his back. He could make this work. If he charted it out with care, he could feed his brother on this portion for _four wondrous days_.

His eye sockets stung with joy at the thought, his smile twitching as he inhaled the mingling sugary scents, a promise to himself that all of it was indeed present and accounted for.

Subconsciously he knew that no matter how many calming breaths he took now, he would eventually slip from his webbed hammock, creep out of the back parlor and come here to check again.

If Papyrus knew what he was doing, he would probably say that it was unnecessary. Miss Muffet would let them take whatever they wanted, he’d say, and Blue would agree. That was what made this so crucial.

 _Get it now while the getting is good_. _Get it now while supplies last, because they don’t last forever_. They never did.

Miss Muffet said they were welcome here. She said they were safe. It was kind of her to tell them such things, but it wasn’t true until Blue made it true, for sure and for certain. Papyrus’ protection was in his hands; he could never—would never trust it to anyone else, not entirely, not even to her.

If he clung to some scrap of control, they would be alright. Papyrus was safe and Sans was watchful and efficient and brilliant. He was four days ahead of anyone else, just _in case_ , and for now it was enough.


End file.
